


The big catch

by xXspace_eaterXx



Category: Batman - Fandom, The fishing trip AU, Tim Drake - Fandom, stephanie brown - Fandom
Genre: F/M, First work - Freeform, Horror, POV First Person, The fishing trip AU - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 05:06:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16804198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXspace_eaterXx/pseuds/xXspace_eaterXx
Summary: The lights flickered and went off, then the sirens started, it was coming, and we knew it wouldn’t be the last time. I fumbled around for my phone and turned on the flashlight. Guiding myself to the window, I stared out into the black abyss before me. No stars, no sun, nothing. The only hints of light were the street lamps. Everyone avoided the streetlights if they were outside. The Fisherman always got the ones under the lights. The “Fishing Attacks” started everyday at around noon. No one knew why then. A loud clanking would be heard from the sky and a gigantic metal hook, sharper than anything imaginable, would come and snatch an innocent person. The lucky ones would be killed instantly but some, who would only be hit in the shoulder, for example, would get their limbs pulled off while being pulled violently back into the sky. I turned back around and faced my coworkers, their faces grim.





	The big catch

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone this is my first work. Feel free to tell me what you think in the comments. I will remove any hate. Hope you enjoy!

The lights flickered and went off, then the sirens started, it was coming, and we knew it wouldn’t be the last time. I fumbled around for my phone and turned on the flashlight. Guiding myself to the window, I stared out into the black abyss before me. No stars, no sun, nothing. The only hints of light were the street lamps. Everyone avoided the streetlights if they were outside. The Fisherman always got the ones under the lights.  
The “Fishing Attacks” started everyday at around noon. No one knew why then. A loud clanking would be heard from the sky and a gigantic metal hook, sharper than anything imaginable, would come and snatch an innocent person. The lucky ones would be killed instantly but some, who would only be hit in the shoulder, for example, would get their limbs pulled off while being pulled violently back into the sky. I turned back around and faced my coworkers, their faces grim.  
“Listen,” I said, stepping into the middle of the room, “We have people working to fix this. Nasa, the government, they have to be doing something.” I went to the closet where people put their coats. “Come on, we have to stay warm.” I began to hand out the coats. I felt this, almost primitive instinct within me. “Mr. Drake?” One of my more smaller coworkers came towards me. She was shaking and her teeth were chattering. I quickly grabbed my coat, far too big for her, and swiftly wrapped her in it. “This is out of office Martha,” I raised my voice, “call me Tim.” She nodded. She was one of our newest interns. She was in the worst state so far. I guided her away from the window, to get someplace warmer. I had her sit on the floor, then I got a chair and stood on it so I was seen.  
“Everyone,” I called out, “I’ll get the coats. Just come over here and huddle together. I’ll get supplies. Just focus on each other.” They quickly exchange looks and nods before coming over to Martha and me. Jogging over to the coat racks, I grabbed the remaining coats and put them in a pile in front of my coworkers. I stared at them, huddled and scared. I’m drawing a blank, but then I got the idea. “Everyone, take out your phone and turn on the flashlight to the lowest setting.” They did as I had instructed. “Good, good. Now we have light.” I mumbled to myself. I still can’t get over the fact that I didn’t notice the lack of sun sooner.  
This morning when I was commuting to work, it was dark but I thought nothing of it. It wasn’t till noon when the noise started that really everyone noticed there was something wrong. We went to the window as a group to look for the cause of the noise only to see the first “Fishing Attack”. I shook my head as if to rid myself of the memory from this morning. “I know this is the worst thing I could possibly do right now, but I’m going to go outside and get supplies from the corner store down the road. If I don’t come back, Stephanie’s in charge.” I looked over to my girlfriend. She stops handing out the coats and grabs my hand. I gave her a slight nod before I sprint out of the building, not giving her time to argue or say goodbye. I was immediately ripped into by the biting cold. I felt it force a gasp out of me, but I kept moving. “If I’m going to die, I’ll die helping the ones in need!” I said to myself as I carefully avoided the street lights.  
Making it to the corner store my first action was to snatch some backpacks. I managed to find 3, one of them small and pink with a glittery butterfly, probably intended for a child. Grinning to myself about the prospect of presenting it to Stephanie, I realized that I can only carry so much. One backpack I filled with water bottles, the other beef jerky, granola bars, and whatever bags of chips and candy bars there were in the deserted check-out counter, and the final one full of miscellaneous survival gear from behind the counter.  
Standing in front of the stores' glass doors, I looked into the looming darkness. It was like looking at a campfire, it was obviously dangerous, but a feeling of calm seemed to overwhelm it. I let myself sigh deeply. Opening the door slowly, the 3 backpacks tied firmly to my back with the rope I found. I had grabbed some lighter fluid, a couple packs of matches, and some lighters. I began to walk at a fast pace. About a two-thirds of the way to the office I heard the deafening metallic clanking sound of the “Fisherman”. Breaking into a sprint, “it’s too late” I realized.  
Hot, searing pain, unlike anything I could have ever imagined carved through in the bottom of my left leg. I could see the building. I was about 200 feet away. I felt the hook begin to pull, pulling at my flesh, tugging itself taut. Stumbling desperately, I lunged forward, the momentum ripping the hook out of my mangled leg. I let out a painful cry as I ran back to the safety of the office. Sitting down on the floor by the bottom of the stairs I panted, crying from pain. I heard the door open and saw my co-workers led by Stephanie. She basically leapt down all of the stairs and was by my side in an instant. I shakily grabbed onto her arms. “My leg...they got my leg…" I stammered at her, still in shock and in pain. I felt myself being picked up and soon lost consciousness.  
When I eventually came to I felt a tight compression around the wound in my leg. I was wrapped in the coat I had previously given Martha. I sat up groggily and noticed the weakness of my muscles. Opening my mouth to call for Stephanie I sensed she had already come to my side. She had blood all over her arms and it was oozing slowly over her hands and forearms. “Whose blood is that?” I reached out and grabbed her hand and held it tightly. “Yours, mainly. There was some guy at the pharmacy, too, but not anymore.” She held out a bottle of muscle relaxers, pain killers, string for stitches and a needle. My eyes widened. “What did you do?” The urgency and worry in my voice must have been apparent because Stephanie put her hand on my shoulder. “He was already hurt. I helped him.” I sighed and relaxed. “Why on Earth did you go out there Steph?” I sounded angry and defeated. She put her hands on her hips. “Well, I can be asking you the same thing!” “I was doing it for our group. I was doing to help everyone!”  
Stephanie looked hurt and a little angry. “Oh, so I wasn’t?” She walked out of the room and into the main working room where the rest of the group was still huddled together. I sighed, removing the coat that was covering my legs and winced at the pain and bitter cold. I had been stripped down to my boxers and had a wrap going from my left foot up to my knee. I tried moving my ankle as a test but let out another scream. Stephanie came running in. “Don’t move it yet, idiot! The hook damaged a lot of your calf muscle. When this is all over, you will definitely need an amputation. I’m sorry I couldn't do more, but it might be good for you. Might teach you to think things through for once.” She avoided eye contact but took my hand in hers. I sat there, not showing any reaction. “So, I guess walking is out of the picture?” Stephanie let go of my hand. “Be right back.” She said as she ran back to the other room and came back with a pair of crutches.  
They were the kind that had clips for your wrist so they would be more comfortable and easier to use. Stephanie came over and helped me move to the edge of the table I was positioned on. I had my legs hanging over the edge so it would be easier to get my first step with crutches. “Here Timmy.” Stephanie said with a smile. She positioned the crutches around my wrist. “I hate being called that.” I whined, making my voice sound more childish instead of its normal business tone. Stephanie laughed and walked closer so she had a hand on my back. “Whenever you're ready Tim. Remember, no weight on your left leg.” I nodded. I stepped down with my right leg and used the crutches to catch myself. I was able to get walking with them pretty quickly. Besides a few slip-ups, I did well. Stephanie had the great idea to make a “sling” for my leg. She bent my leg at the knee and took the extra medical tape and wrap it from my thigh to the ankle. This prevented my leg from getting tired and want to step on the ground.  
I “walked” over to Stephanie and gave her a hug. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. I really appreciate everything you have done. I know I didn’t make this easy.” She hugged me back. “I know this is hard, especially for you now but you were the one who took charge in the beginning when no one else would.” I sighed. “I can’t do anything now. I’m useless.” I mumbled. Stephanie moved her hands and put them on my shoulders. “You’re still the brains. We still need you. The group and I will do whatever you need us to do to help you.” I smiled. “Thanks, Steph.” I stepped back. I stared at the door in front of me. Sighing deeply, I thought about how the rest of the survivors will view me. Stephanie opened the door. “Don’t worry. You going out wasn’t a waste Tim. You got important supplies.” She held the door for me and I walked through. Everyone looked to the door. They stood up and all came over to me. Martha and Stephanie were taking in the corner. I saw them look occasionally over at me. I was immediately flooded with questions. “What did you see?” “Was there anyone else?” And the most frequent, “what happened to you?” I smiled at their concern. “Stephanie says the ‘Hook’ impaled my left calf and damaged all of the muscles. When this is all over I am going to have to get it amputated.” I saw everyone's faces fall. Stephanie and Martha had stopped talking. They both walked over. Stephanie put a hand on my shoulder. Martha joined the others. I could feel their guilt, their sorrow. “But that won’t stop me nor us.” I said, in a poor attempt to get everyone's spirits back up. “I will be the brains while Stephanie, who has shown herself to be more than capable, will be the quote on quote brawn.” They all nodded. The room seemed to lighten, at least a little. I looked over to Stephanie. She had left and was pulling over a chair for me. I felt my arms starting to shake so it must have been noticeable. I sat down as soon as she had delivered the chair. She looked down at me, as if for instruction but I knew she had her own ideas. I gave her a simple nod and she began to deal out orders. “Now that you all know that Tim is fine, our first job will be taking inventory of all of the supplies he was able to recover and use them accordingly. Once that is done, we will get back into our previous huddle formation and discuss future plans and what I was able to learn from the wound inflicted upon Tim's leg.” She sounded so professional. It would be hard not to listen to her. Everyone began to move. There were about five people for each of the three backpacks. Stephanie stayed by my side and watched. I tried to flex my calf and assess the damage but I couldn't even get the muscles to move. “Pathetic.” I hissed under my breath. Stephanie heard me of course, I think she has super hearing when it comes to me and bent down to my side in an instant. “You better not say anything like that again. You are not. You risked your life to get us these supplies and look at how beneficial that was.” She indicated to the fifteen or so people working through the bags I had brought back. “I can’t physically help anyone.” I was frustrated, but I feel like that is something understandable for someone who just found out they need their leg amputated in a world attacked by aliens. It may sound cliche but, it could have be worse.


End file.
